


bro, do you even lift (i lift your heart up, bro)

by straythoughts (HiraethSatisfied)



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Attempt at Humor, Didn't Know They Were Dating, Fluff and Humor, Han Jisung | Han & Lee Minho | Lee Know are Best Friends, Idiots in Love, LITERALLY, M/M, Memes, Oblivious Bang Chan, Oblivious Han Jisung | Han, Painfully Oblivious, Potty Humor, Roommates, and puns, established 2minlix with OT6 setup, everyone say thank you lee felix, idiots to lovers, jisung has to move in with chan, so many memes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-16 08:06:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29329008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HiraethSatisfied/pseuds/straythoughts
Summary: They're bros, the best of bros. Homies, if you will. But somewhere along the way, due to clogged toilets and chilli peppers and platonic cheek kisses, homiesexual turns into just your regular old homosexual.
Relationships: (aka OT6), Bang Chan/Han Jisung | Han, lee minho | lee know/seo changbin/hwang hyunjin/lee felix (stray kids)/kim seungmin/yang jeongin
Comments: 24
Kudos: 106





	bro, do you even lift (i lift your heart up, bro)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sunnchild](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunnchild/gifts).



> Thank you to Min, who commissioned this from me, and is the true mastermind behind it. I don't make the rules. The number of times I screamed at Chan and Jisung in my own damn writing was just. Astronomical. Anyway, enjoy this memeful mess.
> 
> ***Note: The lyrics Jisung "freestyles" are taken from Small Things (3RACHA).

“I’m gonna be homeless.”

Jisung had waited eight agonizing seconds outside Minho’s door to say that in the most dramatic voice possible, then proceeds to flounce into the apartment and flop on his stomach on the couch.

Minho doesn’t coddle him, not that Jisung had expected him to. He shuts the door behind them and comes over to perch on the arm of the couch, sticking out one leg to prod at Jisung’s ass. “Don’t tell me you blew all your spare money on cheesecake again.”

“I’m wounded,” Jisung grumbles into a cushion on the opposite side. “I come to you with a real concern, and what do you do? You doubt my perfectly capable adult functionality. Also, stop that.” 

“No,” Minho tells him sweetly, and his other foot joins the first, both blatantly resting on his ass now. Jisung needs a new best friend. “Better hurry up and tell me why you think you’ll be homeless first. Roommate issues?” 

Jisung feels his bottom lip wobble, but he refuses to cry. “It’s not really his fault. He’s moving out to live with his girlfriend at the end of the month.”

Minho hums in acknowledgement. Jisung thinks he’s about to impart some sage wisdom that the couple of years he has on Jisung affords him, but nothing is forthcoming. Instead, when Jisung feels Minho shifting and rolls over so that he’s lying on his back, he finds Minho on his phone. 

“Hyung!” he complains, nudging at Minho’s thigh with his own feet. “How can you be texting someone when I’m about to lose my entire apartment?” 

“Calm down, I’m solving your problems,” Minho responds mildly. “As usual.”

Jisung frowns. “Why does that sound like a very bad idea.”

Raising an eyebrow, Minho shoves his phone toward Jisung’s face, showing him the text conversation on the screen. 

  
  


**[ Channie hyung ]**

You still looking for a roommate hyung

_8:03 PM_

It’s not really urgent, but I wouldn’t be opposed. 

Why, did you find one? 

_8:03 PM_

Possibly

He’s a junior at SNU struggling with rent because his roommate is moving out

.

And unfortunately, he’s my best friend

_8:04 PM_

Oh, I think you’ve mentioned him. 

Jisung, right? 

_8:04 PM_

Yeah, that’s him

He’s a little messy sometimes but not a bad kid

_8:04 PM_

I would be down to meet up with him.

Or if he wants, he can just come to look at the place right off the bat. 

Give me his number, maybe? That way you don’t have to be the middleman.

_8:05 PM_

I really don’t care but go off I guess

Here: 010-XXX-XXXX

_8:06 PM_

  
  


All at once, Jisung’s phone vibrates violently with an incoming text, startling him so much that he half-falls off the couch, barely catching himself with one hand. His phone clatters to the carpet, screen alight innocently as if to mock him with two notification banners in quick succession. 

  
  


**[ Unknown Number ]**

Hey, this is Jisung, right? I’m Minho’s friend. 

The one that is looking for a roommate, I mean. 

_8:08 PM_

  
  


Jisung stares at the phone on the ground, then back up at Minho. 

“I don’t know anything about this guy, and now you want us to be roommates?” He extracts his legs carefully until he can put them on the ground, sitting upright. “What if we hate each other? What if he’s secretly a serial killer?”

Minho lets out a bark of laughter at that. “Trust me, Channie hyung would probably give a serial killer a place to sleep and a nice meal instead.” 

That still doesn’t reassure Jisung, but at least he knows Minho’s taste in friends is good since he’s friends with, well, yours truly.

Another text comes in a moment later, drawing Jisung’s attention to the phone on the floor. 

  
  


**[ Unknown Number ]**

Ah, sorry, I didn’t give you my name. It’s Bang Chan. 

I think I’ve seen you around the music department?

_8:11 PM_

  
  


“Wait.” 

Jisung’s brain takes a moment to catch up, then his neck twists upward to Minho so fast that it nearly snaps. 

“Bang Chan. _The_ Bang Chan. The one who wears all black and is rumored to be an underground rapper Bang Chan.” 

Minho, annoyingly, seems to find this all amusing. “Yeah? So?”

Jisung scrambles upright, snatching his phone from the ground and shaking it in Minho’s face. “I can’t room with him!” 

“Why not?” 

“Because!” 

Minho stares at him. Jisung stares back. 

“Obviously, you aren’t a music major or you’d realize just how legendary he is. A myth, practically. Bigfoot.”

“You’re being dramatic,” Minho says, then pauses. “He does have pretty big feet, though.” 

Jisung grabs a couch cushion and tries to hit him with it. “Not what I meant!” he yells, blushing something fierce. “I’m not worthy of _breathing_ next to him, much less _living_ with him!” 

Minho blocks his attacks easily and sends him an unimpressed look. “He’s literally only a year older than you, and he’s not gonna care what you’ve done or not done, or how that compares to him. You are going to send him your availability, and you are going to meet up with him. Or did you forget you kind of have no choice?” 

Jisung deflates, letting the pillow fall back to the couch. “Okay,” he says finally. “Okay, fine.” He drags a hand down his face and picks up his phone again. “What do I even say?” 

“That you’re free Wednesday afternoon, Friday afternoon, or Sunday,” Minho says, because of course he knows Jisung’s schedule better than Jisung does. 

Sighing, Jisung saves The Bang Chan™️’s number and types out a text slowly, trying not to sound like the absolute fool that he is. 

  
  


**[ The Bang Chan** **™️ ]**

uh hey

yeah i’m jisung

i’ve seen you around too

_8:15 PM_

  
  


“Pathetic,” Minho says, leaning over his shoulder. 

“Shut up, I’m trying!” Jisung swats him away and hunches further over his phone.

  
  


**[ The Bang Chan** **™️ ]**

so uh i guess times i’m available to meet are wednesday or friday in the afternoon, and all day sunday?

that wasn’t a question sorry

minho is laughing at me

_8:16 PM_

  
  


“That’s hyung to you, brat.” Minho pushes at his temple lightly and stands from the couch. “I’m going to make dinner. You only get some when you’ve finished setting up a time.”

Jisung is glad for the reprieve from the teasing, and he can’t seem to look away from the text conversation. The Bang Chan™️ had replied to Minho just now, so he must be near his phone, right?

Sure enough, the three dots that indicate typing pop up, and a message comes through a few moments later. 

  
  


**[ The Bang Chan** **™️ ]**

Haha sounds right from what he’s told me.

I’m free on Wednesday too, unless you think that’s too soon. 

_8:18 PM_

no no that’s good!

where’s your apartment? i could walk probably if it’s near campus

_8:18 PM_

Don’t worry, I’m in Gwanak-gu, though I don’t mind coming to pick you up. 

Do you know where Memil Jaengi Restaurant is? 

_8:19 PM_

actually yeah, been there a couple times

the food’s really good

uh 

you think we could stop there for lunch first?

it’s only about fifteen minutes from here by bus

_8:20 PM_

Sure, no problem.

I live about a block away from it. If you still need a ride when Wednesday comes around, feel free to text me. 

_8:20 PM_

  
  


Jisung can hardly believe his luck. He’s still kind of scared of Bang Chan—sue him, the guy always dresses in all black and carries around a laptop with a bunch of wires and shit stuck to the back and Jisung’s never actually _talked_ to him—but here he is, with a chance to get to know a legend among mere mortals. 

“Hyung!” he calls in the direction of the kitchen. “We’re going out for lunch on Wednesday! You better be proud of me!”

“Well, well, someone moves fast,” Minho calls back, and Jisung doesn’t know what to make of his tone. “Now come here and work for your current meal.” 

Jisung is buzzing with too much energy now, so he doesn’t protest. “Yes, sir!”

* * *

Classes on Wednesday pass by in a daze. Jisung’s too wired to pay attention, tapping his foot or bouncing his leg or twirling his pen. Why focus on class when there are much more interesting things going on in his life? 

When his last professor for the day dismisses them, he’s practically packed his bag and is halfway out the door already, sprinting toward the bus stop. Thankfully, the right bus is idling there already, so he hops on, finding a seat near the back and taking out his earbuds. 

Before he knows it, he’s walking up to the restaurant, stomach already growling at the smells wafting out of it. The establishment is small, but homey, exactly the way he likes it, and if he really does move in a block away, then he could get used to coming here more often. 

“Hey!” someone calls from behind him, and Jisung turns to find The Bang Chan™️ himself stopping in front of him on the sidewalk, looking unfairly put-together and breathing normally even though he’d clearly just run to catch up. 

“It’s me, uh, Bang Chan.” He rubs at the back of his neck, and Jisung notes the simple bracelet with silver and black beads along with a couple others. He likes to accessorize, then. Jisung can highly respect that. 

“Right uh, hey,” he says, then blinks. “Jisung. Han. Han Jisung. That.” 

Chan does something Jisung hadn’t expected him to do in a million years: he laughs. It’s bright and airy, and makes Jisung forget that he’d just stumbled over his words for what likely won’t be the last time, if the guy keeps this up. His eyes practically disappear. The world is Jisungphobic. 

“Nice to officially meet you,” Chan says, then inclines his head toward the entrance to the restaurant. “Shall we?” 

“Oh, we totally shall,” Jisung says, because he can’t seem to stop running his mouth and this is a bad sign. “Let me open that door for you.” 

He stumbles forward, but manages to grab onto the door handle and pull it open, and Chan still has the same bright smile as he exaggeratedly bows and walks through the door. Jisung follows him to a booth on one side against the windows. 

“So tell me,” Chan says once they’ve ordered. “Why’d your roommate move out? If you’re comfortable sharing, that is.” 

Jisung is still trying to process that he’s having a normal conversation with The Bang Chan™️, so it takes him a moment to answer. “Oh you know,” he tries. “Tired of sexiling me and all that. Not my fault I couldn’t sit on the couch for a month after they decided to get it on there and couldn’t stand them being loud in the next room.” 

Chan winces. “Yeah, not much of a fan of that either. When I lived in the dorms…” He shakes his head. “Anyway, he’s out of your hair now. Do you want to talk about rent and stuff or do you want to wait until you’ve seen the place?” 

“Actually,” Jisung says, feeling bold. “I was wondering more about you.” 

“Me?” Chan blinks, leaning back and putting his hands in his hoodie pockets. “Why, what’s up?” 

Jisung is not particularly known for his tact, he supposes, so he decides to just go for it. “I mean like, is your entire wardrobe really black? What’s the stuff on your laptop for? You’re kind of a legend around the music department.” 

Chan seems at a loss for words, but he doesn’t brush aside the questions. “I suppose I get around,” he says carefully. “Can’t hurt to be friendly with as many people as possible.” 

He looks down at his outfit—ripped skinny jeans and his hoodie paired with a black baseball cap and black boots—and shrugs. “As for the clothes, let’s just say my closet is like a black hole.” He chuckles at his own joke. “And the laptop shit is for music production.” 

“So you _are_ an underground rapper,” Jisung says, eyes widening. 

“Uh, yeah, I guess.” Chan shrugs. “I perform at bars or small gigs sometimes.”

Jisung has never met someone cooler in his entire life. “We are now bros,” he announces. “We are bound by bro code even if I don’t move into your apartment. We can set the terms together over this very meal.”

Chan looks kind of amused, and plays along. “Yeah? What’s the first rule of the bro code, then?”

Jisung thinks about it very seriously. “Bros before hoes would have been it, but I’m not about to call women hoes. Or whichever gender of partner you like cause I’m hella gay, too.” It takes him a moment to realize what he’d said, and only because Chan’s eyes widen. “Wait no, I just meant I’m hella gay. I’m not assuming your sexuality, I swear. But um, you should probably know that if I’m going to move in. Yeah.”

Chan smiles. “No worries there, mate. I’m hella gay myself. Or I guess pansexual, if you wanna get technical.” He doesn’t seem bothered that Jisung had just fucked up again, and Jisung could just about kiss him. You know, as bros. 

Thankfully, his big mouth is saved from further fuckery as their food arrives and they both happily dig in. Thankfully, Chan doesn’t push the topic, instead asking about his roommate boundaries.

“Uh, Minho hyung already told you about me being messy,” he says sheepishly. “So I guess I’d be the liability roommate of both of us.”

Chan raises an eyebrow. “If you make the effort to at least clean up after yourself in the common areas and the bathroom, I don’t really care much. Besides, I’m probably not a perfect roommate either. Sleep and I don’t get along, and I tend to be overbearing about things.”

“So like a human being and not Bigfoot?”

Chan blinks. “What?”

Jisung is going to give his brain-to-mouth filter a stern talking-to. “Never mind.”

The other gives him a questioning look, but lets it go. They finish their meal talking about coursework and which professors they’ve wanted to strangle, and split the bill before stepping outside to walk the block to Chan’s apartment complex. It seems nice, even though the building has way too many apartments in it and a too-large parking lot. Jisung wonders how he’d been managing rent and bills alone, but maybe he has family that helps.

The apartment itself is comfortable, cozy in a way that feels lived in but not too cluttered or small. 

Jisung doesn’t know what he’d expected, but it seems like Chan had put in some extra effort into cleaning and arranging the place since he’d known Jisung would be over. There’s a living area with an open kitchen and an island, and beyond that, a hallway to the bedrooms. Chan offers a brief but running commentary as he moves through the hall, and explains that there are technically three bedrooms, but he’d converted the third into a home studio.

“I could just sleep in there,” Jisung offers, his hands itching to run along the soundproofing. He’s ready to move in just for this room alone.

Chan laughs. “Unfortunately, you’ll probably find that I fall asleep in there more often than in my actual room,” he says sheepishly. 

“And? Failing to see how that’s a bad thing.”

“Just means I’ve probably been overworking and will probably wake up with muscle cramps,” Chan sighs. “And you probably don’t want my company when I’m loud or in the zone, especially at fuckall hours of the night.”

“Watch me,” Jisung challenges, because he doesn’t want Chan to put himself down and is willing to go to stupid lengths for simple things. “I’ll move a futon in there and sleep like a baby.”

Chan just chuckles. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

As they finish the tour, Chan explains that he can talk to the landlord to get any paperwork sorted, and they set a move-in date so that Jisung can clear things out with his current place. Chan even offers to help him move out since he has a car.

“I uh, don’t have a ton of stuff,” Jisung says lamely. “I don’t want to inconvenience you.” 

Chan shakes his head. “It would be my pleasure, honestly. Maybe it’ll finally convince me to go back to the gym.” 

Jisung eyes Chan’s hoodie. It’s big, enough so that he can’t see any definition of body shape underneath. But… 

“Bro, do you even lift?” The number of times he’s wanted to slap himself in just the span of talking to Chan today is astronomical. 

“Usually yes,” Chan laughs. “But I’ve been too absorbed in work and music lately that I just kinda… stopped.” 

Jisung waggles his eyebrows. “Maybe if you lift then I’ll be motivated to as well.” 

“I see.” Chan grins, something teasing about it. “Well, I guess you’ll get to see me lift when I help you move in.”

* * *

Letting Chan lift boxes turns out to be a mistake. 

Jisung has already started packing boxes when Chan arrives on Sunday, and he opens the door to Chan in a sleeveless muscle shirt, no hoodie in sight. He loses his grip temporarily on the box he’s carrying, but thankfully, both he and Chan scramble to catch it, and oh fuck, oh shit, Chan’s very nice, very veiny forearms are wrapped tightly around Jisung’s as they both hold the box up. They flex a little as both of them stand back up and Chan takes the box from Jisung easily. 

“Is this done?” he asks, as if nothing had just happened. “I can carry it out to my car.” 

“Uh, sure,” Jisung says. “Actually no, I should probably finish all of them before we carry them all at once, huh?” 

Chan nods and follows him inside, and Jisung is glad his back to Chan as he gets back to work. 

He’s also glad that Chan is respectful of his stuff, and only helps pack what he needs from the kitchen and living room, not even moving toward Jisung’s bedroom. Jisung doesn’t have anything secret or personal, but he is a little embarrassed about the hurricane that had swept through his room and permanently decided to stay, especially after seeing how orderly Chan’s apartment had been. So he finishes cleaning and packing in his bedroom as quickly as he can, then greets Chan with a smile as they move all the boxes out into the hallway, then down the elevators and into the car. Jisung crawls into the backseat to count all the boxes, then goes to give his keys back to the landlord and joins Chan back at the car.

“No last saying goodbye to the apartment?” Chan asks, hands in his pockets as he leans against the hood. 

Jisung shrugs as he rounds the car to the passenger side. “I’ll make up for it by saying hi to my new one?” he offers. 

Opening the door on his side, Chan slides into the driver’s seat. “You want an introduction or something since we didn’t do it when you came to take a look?” He tries for a horrible accent as he continues, “Housie bousie, this is Hannie, and he’s gonna be my new roomie!”

Jisung nearly chokes as Chan pulls the car onto the street. “I mean, you _could_ do that, or you could like, freestyle rap something better.” 

Thankfully, Chan doesn’t seem to take it as an insult. “You got something better?” he asks curiously. 

Jisung’s palms are sweaty—knees weak, arms are heavy—as they stop at a red light. It’s not like he hasn’t freestyled before, but Chan is something of a professional. Still, he might be able to prove himself if he drops something now, so he summons his open mic confidence and shoots Chan a cocky smirk.

“Sure,” he says easily. “I got you. Gimme a minute, though.”

It takes him another minute or two, but in this transitional phase with all the larger pieces shifting into something new, the small things bring solace and the words come easily.

툭 치면 터질 것 같던 감정아 오늘도

잘 버텨줘서 고마워 thanks for little things I do

여태껏 힘들었어도 괜찮잖아 매일 밤마다 생각하는 고민도

아마 내일이면 해결돼

Good night

잠이나 잘까 하다가 갑자기 생각나

어제 하던 가사들이 막혔었는데 다 풀렸지

Cancel lock 오기 전 어김없이 줄줄 새어 나와 마치 독처럼 영감이 새지

감사해 이것마저도 작은 것 하나하나가 행복을 세기에는

“Uh, that’s all I got for now,” he tries, scratching at the back of his neck. “Yeah.”

Chan doesn’t reply at first, instead turning into the parking lot and finding his spot before turning back to Jisung, hands still on the wheel. 

“That was amazing,” he says sincerely. “Like, I could put it to a track right now amazing. You have a super nice flow and the vocal tone? Chef’s kiss.”

Jisung feels something warm and fluttering twist inside him. “Yeah?” Just a week ago, he couldn’t have imagined being noticed by The Bang Chan, and here he is now, about to move in with him and even getting glowing praise from him. This is all just wild. “Are you gonna serapnade me too?”

Chan blinks, and a grin slowly spreads across his face. “Was that a pun?”

Jisung doesn’t know where he pulls the audacity to wink. “Maybe if you rap for me, you’ll find out.”

Chan looks out over the dashboard, still smiling, but a little rueful. “Unfortunately, I’m not much good at freestyle.”

“That’s why I’m here,” Jisung fills in for him before he can overthink anything. Chan’s side profile is pretty, and that isn’t relevant but Jisung’s looking at it now. “You get to learn from the best.”

Laughing, Chan opens the car door. “Looking forward to it,” he says, and Jisung tries not to think about how sincere and genuine he still sounds.

* * *

After they’ve unpacked all the things he most immediately needs, Jisung video calls Felix in the privacy of his new room.

“I’ve been trying to reach you all day,” Felix complains. “What were you up to?”

“Moving apartments,” Jisung says casually, as though he hadn’t totally forgotten to update Felix on the process. 

Felix blinks. “What? That was today? Who’s your flatmate?” He grins, something mischievous about it even in 720p. “Are they hot?” 

Jisung absolutely does not think about Chan’s handsome side profile from earlier. “We’re bros,” he says instead. “The broest of bros. Minho hyung didn’t tell you?” 

“No? But I mean, he probably forgot because Seungmin is staying the night and they’re bickering over what to watch.” 

“Heh,” Jisung grins. “While cuddling under a blanket, right?” 

Felix’s grin is just as knowing. “Oh, absolutely.” 

“Y’all talked about adding Jeongin yet?” he asks, reaching for his unfinished Turbos Flamas. Thankfully, he’d left a pair of chopsticks in the bag, and picks up a few pieces with them to shovel in his mouth. 

Felix sighs. “Not really? I know Seungminnie likes him too now but hyung is always an enigma. I want us to figure it out before I tell them about Hyunjin too.” He makes his signature pleading eyes at the camera. “Maybe you could find out if hyung is on board?” 

“I probably couldn’t ask him about Jeongin without him getting suspicious,” Jisung points out. “Probably better to ask him yourself.” 

His friend’s expression falls into a pout, but before he can protest, someone is shouting for him in the background. Felix looks offscreen and grins. “You two choose our movie yet?” he asks. 

“Unfortunately,” Seungmin replies. “We’re watching AristoCats because, and I quote, ‘you need to be educated if you want to keep frequenting a cat-serving household.’”

Felix giggles, and Jisung can practically see the hearts in his eyes as they scrunch up. Minho and Seungmin are certainly lucky bastards. They’ve never made him feel as though he’s fourth wheeling whenever he hangs out with them, though, and Felix always has plenty of affection to share. 

“Where’s my goodnight kiss, bro?” Jisung asks, hearing some movement in his own apartment. “My dude, my guy.”

“Is that Jisung?” Seungmin asks. “I’m not kissing you, ew.” 

Felix laughs and turns his bright eyes back to Jisung. “I still don’t understand why you call me bro when we’re both gay. That gives you the baby pass, you know.” 

“Okay, but fellas,” Jisung insists, “is it gay to give the homies a kiss goodnight?” 

“Nah,” Felix says immediately, and then the both of them are a laughing mess. Jisung can practically hear Seungmin rolling his eyes. 

“You two have more gay in your left pinky fingernails than in the rest of our entire bodies combined,” he sighs. “Have fun, I’m going back to the warm blankets.” 

As he leaves, Jisung calls, “Love you too, Seungminnie!” and adds, “Lix, you should get back to them, yeah? Enjoy your movie.” 

“Okay,” Felix says, “but after that goodnight kiss.” 

Jisung is all smiles as he pretends to kiss his camera at the same time Felix does, and waves before ending the call. 

“Jisung?” 

The Jisung in question startles badly and fumbles with his phone, dropping it on the ground. Thank god for carpeted floors. When he looks up, Chan is standing in his open doorway, smiling sheepishly. 

“Uh, I was wondering if you wanted to get takeout or stay in?” 

Jisung’s heart is still calming down. “How long were you standing there?” 

Chan looks like he’s about to say _not long_ but must decide to be honest instead. “I didn’t know you knew Felix.” 

Well, shit. “Uh, yeah,” he says. “He’s kinda, y’know, dating my best friend. And also we took Intro to Korean Music 2 together.” 

“Ah, right,” Chan says awkwardly. There’s a pause. “So, takeout?” 

“God, yes please,” Jisung says, and stands to join him at his laptop as they settle on Indian food.

* * *

For some reason, Chan seems a little distant for several days after the video call. It’s not as though he’s not polite or kind still, but he always seems on the verge of saying something and stopping himself. Jisung wonders if he’d done something wrong or if Chan has a crush on Felix or something. As it is, he’s too cautious about it to actually sleep on the floor of the studio, and they don’t talk nearly as much as Jisung would like. 

That is, until The Great Toilet Incident™️.

Jisung hadn’t been prepared for this. He’d eaten way too much cheesecake and Turbos Flamas instead of actual meals before an exam, and so there he’d sat the next day, on the toilet, trying and failing to well, not be constipated. He even tries flushing as soon and often as possible, but he’d still managed to get the toilet clogged. That was only his second problem.

His third problem is that he has no idea how to unclog it. 

“Shit,” he mutters to himself as he glances at the toilet from where he’s washing his hands. He has to figure this out before Chan gets home. He can do this. He hopes.

A lot of Google searches and a shit ton of Lysol later, he realizes that he does not, in fact, got this. He’s panicking and has even written an apology note, and he’s about to try warm water and an unraveled wire hanger when the front door opens. 

Double shit, no pun (originally) intended.

Hastily, he washes his hands, leaves the note in the doorway to the bathroom, and dives into his room, closing the door and hiding under the covers. Is it the most mature thing to do? Probably not. But he swears he’s tried to fix it and he doesn’t know if he can face Chan right now when the guy has been nothing but accommodating.

He can hear the sounds of Chan moving around in the living room, setting down his bags and going toward the bathroom to wash up. His heart pounds through a long silence, and then Chan calls his name.

“Jisung? You there?”

Jisung supposes it would be rude of him to ignore it, especially since he had created the mess in the first place. “Yeah,” he calls timidly. At least Chan doesn’t sound mad.

His roommate cracks the door open and peeks through, holding up the note. “What’s this?”

Jisung is sweating a little. He thinks the note is clear enough. It says:

_okay, sooo… i accidentally clogged the toilet, but i don’t know how to use the plunger apparently so i googled shit (no pun intended) like mad and tried lysol and dish soap and warm water and im about to try more stuff so please dont get mad at me i swear ill pay for a plumber if we need one_

He peeks out of the blankets anyway, just his head showing. “Sometimes,” he says gravely, “the demons of your soul are nothing compared to the demons of your bowels.”

Chan blinks, but thankfully chuckles a little. “Does this have to do with the empty chips packets and plastic cheesecake container in the trash in the kitchen?”

“Maybe, but you can’t prove anything.”

Chan shakes his head. “I’m not mad,” he assures Jisung. “But let’s figure it out together, okay? That way you can be prepared in the future.”

That sounds fair enough. And well, maybe Jisung wants to talk to him more, even if it has to be about something this embarrassing. So he crawls out of the blankets, hanging his head a little. 

“Go easy on me,” he says. “I’m just a Poop Patrol trainee.”

“Then I guess I’m your commander.” Chan’s amused smile doesn’t leave his face as he pulls out rubber gloves for them both in the kitchen, and works him through using the plunger. To Jisung’s amazement, shit actually goes down (no pun originally intended again), and he turns to Chan in awe. 

“The toilet must like your funny words, magic man. I mean, Captain.”

Chan grins, and even standing in their bathroom with bags under his eyes and dripping rubber gloves, washing the plunger, he’s so warm and maybe a little beautiful.

“You did the legwork,” he says, laying it out to dry. “Just don’t forget how.”

Jisung likes this a lot better, how they’ve fallen easily into conversation, how Chan isn’t avoiding him. 

“Aye aye, Captain,” he says, saluting and hoping this can continue. 

* * *

As it turns out, the Great Toilet Incident™️ seems to have been a catalyst for them, Chan thinks. Chan’s seen him at one of his worse moments, so Jisung acts contractually obligated to cling onto him as much as he can without being annoying. And well, it’s nice, if Chan’s being honest.

He makes an effort to eat meals with Jisung when he can, and they both find that Chan actually remembers to eat that way. Jisung makes an effort to clean up after himself because he feels kind of bad that his room doesn’t reflect the rest of the house, even if Chan tries to be understanding about it. They go out to buy a little calendar and some fun stickers to remember to do their share of chores, and Chan quickly learns that Jisung needs supervision in the kitchen. 

Chan’s taking a break from his headphones and the track that’s driving him crazy right now, and props open the door since it’s gotten stuffy in his studio. But as he listens, he realizes that there’s a noise that sounds like chopping coming from the kitchen, accompanied by some humming. Chan is a little worried, recalling all the times Jisung has nearly chopped off his finger while using a knife. 

The sound of chopping stops, and there’s a scream. 

Chan is out of his seat in a flash and running toward the kitchen. “Jisung, what happened?” he calls as he bursts through the doorway. “Are you okay?” 

Jisung is blinking as though possessed, fingers intact but eyes red and a half-cut pile of chili peppers in front of him. “Fuck,” he curses. “I was rubbing my eyes before I knew it and…” He flaps his arms helplessly. 

Chan tries to suppress his giggles, but it’s _really_ hard as a wave of fondness washes over him. “Oh, Jisung. There are eyedrops in the bathroom cabinet that might lessen the sting.”

“That’s great, but I can’t fucking see,” Jisung warbles. 

Sighing, Chan puts an arm around him, guiding him toward the bathroom. It’s so natural that he doesn’t think about it, even as he ruffles Jisung’s hair and taps the side of his head lightly against Jisung’s temple. He doesn’t follow him inside, though, just stands outside the door after Jisung closes it, wondering whether he should wait for him. 

After a few long moments of silence, he hears another yelp. 

“Ow! Fuck!” 

“Jisung?” he asks worriedly. “You alright in there, mate?” 

There’s a beat of silence which feels embarrassed to Chan. “No,” Jisung says, sounding feeble and pained. “See, this dumbass decided to use the bathroom while he was in here…” 

Chan has to bite the inside of his cheek, glad Jisung can’t see him through the door. “And you didn’t think to wash the chilli pepper off your hands first?” 

“Stop laughing at me!” 

“I’m not!” Chan says, even as a giggle escapes him. “Look, I don’t think eyedrops will work for, uh, that, so just… Maybe I’ll get you a glass of milk? And for god’s sake, _please_ wash your hands as soon as possible.” 

He chuckles quietly to himself as he runs to the kitchen for a glass of milk, then returns so that he can pass it to Jisung through the cracked-open door. This time, he doesn’t have to think about staying firmly put as he waits for Jisung, who finally shuffles out of the bathroom with a towel loosely wrapped around his waist, holding the front end noticeably away from his crotch. 

Chan starts laughing. 

“Does my pain amuse you?” Jisung cries, trying to swat at him futilely with his free hand. Chan ducks it easily and shakes his head. 

“Listen, you’d totally be laughing at me if I were in the same position.” 

Jisung scoffs. “I would not!”

Chan gives him a look.

“Okay,” Jisung amends. “I would.” 

Thus vindicated, Chan can’t look at him for the rest of the day without giggling, and after a while, Jisung joins in, the both of them dissolving into helpless laughter every ten minutes. 

* * *

Chan’s classes have been cancelled for the day, so he uses it to grind away at a set of pieces he’s planning on submitting to an entertainment company. His eyes are kind of burning when Jisung comes back in the evening, but he doesn’t even register the other’s presence until there’s a knock at his studio door. 

“Yeah?” he calls tiredly. 

Jisung gently pushes the door open and peeks in. “Hyung, you haven’t eaten, have you.” It’s not a question.

He hasn’t, but it’s fine. He just needs to push through this, then he’ll eat an actual meal. “I’ll eat in a bit,” he says, avoiding Jisung’s eyes. 

There’s a silence, and when he looks up, Jisung is gone, the door still slightly ajar. He can hear some sounds from what seems like the kitchen, and contemplates whether to get up and make sure Jisung isn’t going to burn it down. But well, Jisung’s gotten a lot better at cooking from all the times they’ve done it together, so he leaves it alone for now, turning back to his work. 

Not even half an hour later, the smell of fried eggs and _kimchi_ wafts through the still-open studio door, and Chan’s stomach lets out a growl. He stops his music, turns to the door, then looks back at his laptop screen. Once again, he looks at the door, then back to the screen. 

Jisung saves him the trouble of deciding whether to leave the studio by coming in with a tray, two bowls of _kimchi bokkeumbap_ balanced on it with a couple glasses of water. 

“Here,” he says, nudging Chan’s mini keyboard out of the way on his table and setting down the tray instead. “There’s more in the kitchen if you’re up to it, but I’m forcing you to eat at least one bowl.” 

Chan looks up at him, that pulsing warmth that he’s become accustomed to around Jisung back in full force. “You didn’t have to,” he says. 

“Nuh uh,” Jisung says firmly, reaching out to take Chan’s headphones off and set them aside. “You haven’t forgotten to eat in a while, which means it’s probably stressful for you right now. So eat, you need the brain food.” He pushes a bowl into Chan’s hands and reaches for a spoon as well. “Don’t make me feed you.” 

Maybe it’s that warmth that’s slowing down his racing brain, but Chan blurts out, “Would that be so bad, though?” 

Jisung turns to him and blinks, spoon in hand. “You want me to feed you?” 

“Never mind,” Chan says. “That was stupid, don’t worry about it.” 

But he barely finishes his sentence before Jisung has shoveled a big bite of food and stuffed it in his mouth. Chan nearly chokes, but thankfully catches it all, swallowing. Maybe it’s because he hasn’t eaten all day, or maybe it’s because Jisung himself made it for him, but it’s the best thing he’s tasted in a while. 

“It’s really good,” he says after he’s swallowed. “You should have some too.”

He takes the spoon from Jisung’s hand to feed himself, and Jisung pouts. “But how do I know you’re gonna finish it all?” 

Chan gestures around the studio with the utensil. “You could stay here as I work.” 

It’s completely worth it when Jisung’s eyes light up so brilliantly that Chan is blinded for a moment. “Really?” 

He has to take another bite before he can answer. “Yeah, really. Besides, might be helpful to have another ear right now.” 

“Wait right here,” Jisung tells him excitedly, and zooms out of the room, only to come back dragging the swivel chair from his desk and the spare futon. “Now I can finally sleep in here!” 

Chan giggles around his bite of rice. “You were serious, huh?” 

“Yep.” Jisung pushes the futon aside with his foot, then plops himself on the swivel chair and rolls the rest of the way over. “Now, what have we here?” 

“First, we have eat your food,” Chan tells him. 

Jisung huffs. “That’s rich, coming from you.” 

Chan lifts his bowl. “I’m eating, okay? We can both eat together, then we’ll tackle this.” 

“Alright, alright.” Jisung lifts his legs so he can arrange himself in the chair cross-legged, then pulls the remaining bowl over to himself as he eats. Chan has to tell him to slow down as he shovels food in his mouth, though he’s very much enjoying the sight of chubby cheeks. He’d told him once that he’s like a chipmunk or squirrel with the way he stores food in his cheeks like he’ll starve for the winter if he doesn’t, and Jisung had taken it seriously, buying little squirrel stickers for their calendar and chores list and using his cheeks to get Chan to do him favors. 

He pushes aside the thought of kissing them, though, because they’re bros, homies if you will. Chan can’t deny, however, that he’s been feeling very homiesexual lately, especially with this new addition of Jisung making him food. 

“Okay, I’m done,” Jisung says, taking a deep breath and setting his empty bowl back on the tray. “Let’s go.” 

Chan has only just finished, but he nods and takes a few sips of water before unplugging his headphones. “So I keep thinking something is missing in this track, and I haven’t even started the lyrics yet, and my deadline is in like, two days.” 

Jisung whistles. “Let’s see what we can do about that, then.” 

As Chan plays the track, he watches Jisung’s face. Jisung nods along to the beat, but he doesn’t give any indication of whether he likes it or not, which makes Chan’s palms a little sweatier than usual. After all, he cares about Jisung’s opinion more than he cares about the opinions of a lot of other people, and maybe he wants to impress him. 

“Stop,” Jisung says, and Chan pauses the track. “Run it back like ten seconds to that buildup with the cymbal. Can you do that with a snare instead? With a little distortion so that it drops before the new beat? The cymbals don’t give it that rock feel that you were going for with the rest of it. You could also go for another layer of bass guitar, but fill it in with some sixteenths.” 

Interesting. Chan goes through the track meticulously and adds the requested instruments, changing up the rhythms but making sure it still lines up. As he plays the track again, there’s a fuller sound even though not much has been added. 

“That was actually really smart,” Chan notes, grabbing for a pen so that he can scribble it down on his hand. “Every beat and subdivision… Gonna have to remember that.” 

He looks up to find Jisung grinning, much closer than before. He’s leaning on the arm of the swivel chair now, and when had his shoulder been pressed against Chan’s? Not that Chan’s complaining. Even the unevenness of Jisung’s teeth in his heart-shaped smile is cute. 

“You said you don’t have lyrics, right?” 

Ah, right. They’re technically working. Chan gets his head back in the game and frowns at the screen. “Yeah,” he says. “Kinda want to mix it up and throw in some rap along with the lyrics, and I wanted adlibs for this ending chorus but I haven’t found an automated voice I like yet and can’t really hit the notes I want with my own voice. I guess I could use pitch correction, but there would have to be—”

Something presses against his cheek. 

It takes him several seconds of staring at the screen but not processing anything to realize that the something had been Jisung’s lips. He snaps his head toward the other, and Jisung is blinking at him in confusion and slight worry. 

“Uh,” he says eloquently. 

“It was for morale!” Jisung says hurriedly. “You looked like you needed it. But I guess I should’ve asked, huh?” His expression looks stricken now. “Oh god, oh fuck, does that count as sexual harrassment? Hyung, I’m sorry, I’ll make it up to—”

“Jisung,” Chan says, catching his wrists even as his heart sinks. He hadn’t known what he’d been hoping for, but well, it’s better than nothing, right? Dimly, he wonders where the thought had come from as he says, “It’s okay, that was sweet of you. I don’t mind.” And because he’s an absolute idiot, he continues, “If you ever want to do that, you can, okay?” 

Jisung blinks. “You can too!” he says, still much too fast. “I like kisses and only Felix actually gives them to me. Minho hyung too, when he’s not dodging me.”

Chan thinks back to the very first day when Jisung had moved in, when he’d seen Jisung and Felix giving each other kisses through the video call screen. Right, this is normal for Jisung. Nothing new, nothing to be afraid of. 

“Okay,” he says slowly. “But I’m warning you right now, that’s probably giving me too much power.” 

“Pssh,” Jisung says, waving his hand as best he can with his wrists still in Chan’s grip. “Never too much for you, hyung.”

Chan just might be done for. 

* * *

Jisung’s sleeping face is so peaceful. 

Chan feels weird about it, but he can’t deny that Jisung’s lashes resting against his cheeks and his face smushed against the pillow are cute. Too cute. 

Which brings him to his dilemma. 

He could just do it. Jisung had given his explicit permission, and Chan has been a little touch-starved lately. He’s also about to be late if he doesn’t leave now, so he should just do it without overthinking it any more so he can get to class. 

Right, that settles it. 

Leaning over, he presses a kiss to Jisung’s cheek, trying not to wake him, but Jisung snuffles a little in his sleep, one eye cracking open. 

“Y’need something, hyung?” 

“No,” Chan says quickly, and pats his hair. “I’m just going to class. Go back to sleep.”

Jisung grabs his hands before he can turn away, and Chan pauses, his heart racing. “Yes?” he asks.

“Good luck,” Jisung mumbles, and then lets go to bury his face back into his pillow.

Chan smiles softly. “Thanks, Hannie.”

It’s only the start.

* * *

The kisses are all innocent, Chan swears. Changbin, however, does not seem to think the same. 

“Platonic,” he repeats, slow and deliberate as he folds his spiral-bound notebook back with a new blank page on top. 

“Yes.” Chan checks to make sure their professor hasn’t entered the room. “Because while I may be half in love with him at this point, he doesn’t feel the same way, or is completely oblivious.” When Changbin sends him a long look, he sighs. “What else am I supposed to do?” 

“Not be this pathetic, for one,” Changbin tells him mercilessly. “And for two, actually talk to him without assuming things.” 

Chan absolutely cannot do that. “What about you? You don’t kiss Hyunjin’s cheek when you leave for class?” 

Changbin pulls his baseball cap further down to hide his face. “Well yeah, but he evades it and I don’t try to pass it off as being his bro or whatever shit you have going on. You, sir, need an intervention.”

Chan groans, buries his face in his hands, and only lifts his head when the professor finally, finally walks in.

* * *

Chan can hardly believe it when he gets a call back from the entertainment company he’d most wanted to work at. 

“No way,” he says, barely breathing. “I got the job?” 

“Yes,” the lady says on the other end of the line. “We’re excited to be working with you, Bang Chan-ssi. When can you come in to fill out onboarding paperwork?” 

He’s in a daze as he goes through the conversation and Jisung shuffles into the living room still wrapped in a blanket, waiting for him to be done. Chan smiles at him widely as he talks, and finally thanks the woman profusely, shoving his phone into his pocket so he can fling himself at Jisung. 

“Ji!” he cries happily, picking him up and swinging him around—blanket and all—because he has no words right now. “Hannie! Jisung!”

“Channie hyung,” Jisung says, all sleepy giggles. “You got the job?” 

“I did!” Chan sets him down and beams even wider. “I’m gonna have a job when I graduate!” 

Jisung doesn’t laugh again. His face looks a little thoughtful and pensive. “Right, you’re graduating,” he says. 

Chan smiles. “But the job is in the city, so I’m staying here,” he says to assuage Jisung’s worried frown. He tries not to be too happy that he means enough to Jisung that the other would be sad if he left. 

Jisung looks up hopefully. “Okay,” he says, something brighter about it. “Are we throwing a party? This is big news.” 

“Of course we are,” Chan says. “We’ll invite Felix, of course, and Minho and by default Seungmin.”

“Then Jeongin too,” Jisung says, “so they can pine over him. And Hyunjin. And isn’t he dating Changbin by now, too?” 

They split up the texting to confirm that everyone is free for dinner and drinks that night, and everyone crowds in later with food and drinks and laughter and congratulations. Even Minho gives Chan a hug, and they settle in the living room sprawled on the couch and the floor, some good old TWICE playing in the background. 

Chan hasn’t had _salsa verde_ in so long, mostly because he knows, okay? He knows he can’t handle spicy food. But Minho and Hyunjin taunt him with their chips and the tantalizingly green dip, and he, like the fool he is, eats the chip Hyunjin offers him with a dollop of it in the end. 

Immediately, the spice hits him. He should’ve known better than to trust Minho and Hyunjin and the rest of them that are laughing at him right now, and his hands flap helplessly as he starts to get up in a quest for water. 

But a hand pulls on his wrist, bringing him back down to the carpet, and Jisung is stuffing a mini cupcake in his face within the next second. He nearly chokes, but thankfully the cupcake is small enough to swallow, though there’s still frosting around the edges of his lips. His friends are sent into another bout of laughter, and he pouts at them. 

“It’s not funny,” he protests, but the spice is slowly fading a little in his mouth as the sweetness sets in, and he turns to Jisung to thank him. 

Jisung gets there first, however, unashamedly and almost absently reaching up to swipe his thumbs across Chan’s lips. Chan goes completely still, and he can’t tell whether the room quiets down or he can’t hear the laughter anymore through the roaring of his ears. Whatever the case, he can only watch, transfixed, as Jisung licks the frosting off his thumbs. 

“All better,” he says. 

Chan is still staring at him, and now everyone else is too. 

Blinking, Jisung looks around them. “What?” he asks, as if he still hasn’t realized what he’s done. But when he looks back at Chan, the confused expression melts off his face, and his eyes widen a little. 

“I… I need to go,” he says, promptly standing and walking out the front door. 

Chan finally finds his voice. “Jisung!” he yells, starting to stand, but Minho pulls him back down and stands himself. 

“I’ll go,” he says, not unkindly, and grabs his jacket before he leaves as well to follow his best friend.

Chan feels frozen to the spot. “I fucked up,” he says numbly. 

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Felix assures him. “He probably just panicked because he hasn’t done PDA with his boyfriend in front of us before.” 

“But…” Chan frowns. “We’re not boyfriends.” 

“You’re not?” Felix asks, followed by five other voices echoing the same thing. 

Hyunjin grips his temples dramatically. “Holy shit, I owe Minho hyung money.” 

“Me too,” Jeongin says. “Dude, Channie hyung, I had faith in you. Why haven’t you asked him out yet?” 

Chan still needs about eighty-four years to process everything that’s going on. “Because he doesn’t like me?” 

A collective groan rises from everyone present. “What?” Chan asks defensively. “He doesn’t!”

“Right,” Seungmin says. “Which is why he sends us pictures of you drooling in your sleep and goes ‘look, Vampy hyung is sleeping for once!’” 

“Or that time he talked about your lips and how you always kiss his cheek before you leave the apartment for like forty minutes,” Changbin adds. 

Hyunjin wrinkles his nose. “Or that time he begged Minho hyung and Felix to teach him how to cook so he could make sure you were eating properly.”

“But,” Chan starts weakly, and doesn’t get very far before Jeongin interrupts him. 

“The point is, you’re going to properly ask him out so we don’t have to keep watching you two dance sickeningly around each other.” Jeongin raises an eyebrow, and Chan is eerily reminded of Minho. 

Sighing in defeat, he asks, “But how? If he’s not even taking kisses as an indication of romantic interest, then what do I do?” 

Felix grins, already whipping out his phone and typing away madly. “We don’t have much time, but thankfully I’ve saved up some very choice memes for this very occasion. Prepare to do the wooing of a lifetime, Bang Christopher Chan.” 

Chan doesn’t even think to correct his honorifics as he sees the notifications from Felix flood in. “I can’t do that,” he protests. 

“What other choice do you have?” Seungmin asks. 

Chan does not, in fact, have a better option. 

  
  


**[ Hannie <3 ]**

  


Jisung, I’m sorry.

For many things, but currently because Felix is making me send these.

_8:12 PM_

  


I swear I just never wanted to pressure you into anything.

I thought you didn’t like me.

_8:14 PM_

  


But now I don’t know what I did to upset you or make you uncomfortable.

Please don’t be mad at me, I swear I don’t know what I’d do with myself if I hurt you.

_8:16 PM_

  


It’s okay if you don’t like me too, but I think… I hope at least, that you feel the same?

God, if I’m wrong, this will be so embarrassing, but...

_8:18 PM_

  


Jisung?

_8:20 PM_

  
  


Chan keeps looking up at Felix during the whole thing, but Seungmin and Jeongin are the ones peering over his shoulders, making sure he’s sending each and every meme. Chan doesn’t even know how Felix had managed to make the last meme _customized_ in between sending all the other ones, but he’s not about to ask. 

“He’s not responding,” Chan says mournfully. 

His phone chimes, and he nearly drops it as he strains to read the message. 

  
  


**[ Hannie <3 ]**

This is Minho, because Jisung’s a fool and doesn’t have the balls to respond right now

He’s actually kinda bawling on the curb rn 

So I guess it’s time for you to swoop in to the rescue and all that

Come down to Memil Jaengi, and bring a jacket

_8:23 PM_

  
  


Chan shoots to his feet immediately. “We’re going to get Jisung,” he announces. “Or I am.” 

“No way we’re missing this,” Changbin grins, and gets up along with him. After they’ve all grabbed their jackets and Chan has an extra one, they troop downstairs and out the lobby, making their way down the sidewalk in the chilly night air. 

Chan sees Minho helping Jisung to his feet in front of the restaurant, and he walks more quickly, coming to a stop in front of them. 

“Jisung, I’m sorry—”

“You’re sorry?” Jisung shakes his head, shivering a little. “Hyung, I realized I’m in love with you because you couldn’t handle _salsa verde_ and sent me choice memes.” 

Despite the cold air, Chan feels his cheeks grow warm. It’s not a scary revelation, but a hopeful one, that fills him up from head to toe. 

“Really?” he asks, just wanting to hear it again. 

Jisung squints at him. “Really. Why else do you think we’re freezing our asses off out here in the cold?” 

Chan can’t help but start to chuckle, reaching out to drape the spare jacket he’d brought around Jisung’s shoulders. Now that is certainly his Jisung, fumbling and a constant flip-flop of panicked and confident gay, and so, so endearing. 

“Well,” he says, “if you’re going to be my boyfriend, I can’t let the frostbite steal you away instead, can I?” 

“Boyfriend,” Jisung repeats, eyes sparkling under the peripheral lights of the restaurant. “Not bro, not homie, not dude, not guy, not brohamster.” 

Chan sighs. “Haven’t we done enough bro-ing around?” he complains.

There’s a collective groan around them, but Jisung starts to laugh, and cups Chan’s face with ice-tipped fingers, leaning in to kiss him like he can’t wait any longer. It’s comfortable, and after a moment, Chan’s smile melts into it.

“Gross,” he hears Jeongin gag when they pull away. “They’ve already been dating since Hannie hyung moved in, but now we get a front row seat.” 

Jisung and Chan just laugh, and Jisung loops his arm through Chan’s, pulling him flush against his side. “We’ve got a lot to catch up on!” he protests. 

“No thanks to you,” Seungmin teases. 

Minho laces his fingers through Felix’s. “And all thanks to Yongbok’s truly impressive collection of memes.” 

“Hey!” 

All of them are laughing now as they stumble down the sidewalk back to Chan and Jisung’s apartment, and Chan doesn’t let go of Jisung—not this time, not again.

“By the way,” Jisung tells him as they fall a little behind. “My favorite one was Step The Fuck Up And Be My Boyfriend.” 

* * *

Their relationship really doesn’t change much. Chan still comes back to find Jisung in the strangest and most hilarious predicaments he brings upon himself. Jisung still brings him food and makes him go to sleep, and ends up sleeping on the floor of the studio. But now Chan can carry him to bed and tuck them both in under the covers. Now he can leave a kiss on Jisung’s cheek or forehead before he leaves or before he goes to sleep, and not feel the slightest bit guilty. Now Jisung more openly admires his body and can tease him in ways that feel more like compliments. 

He thinks about this as they lie in bed on a lazy Sunday morning months later, neither of them inclined to get up when they’re keeping the blankets warm for each other. 

"They're just so... veiny,” Jisung says. “And thick. With two C's." 

Chan feels his ears burning even as he laughs. Jisung is always very over-the-top in his compliments, but well, as he watches Jisung trace lazy patterns over his forearm, he can't exactly complain. 

"What brought this about?" he asks, smiling and shifting closer. 

“I dunno,” Jisung shrugs, but his grin gives too much away. “Bro, do you even lift?” 

But Chan is ready for him this time. “Yeah, I lift your heart up, bro. But that doesn’t answer the question.”

Jisung snickers, and his eyes are bright and twinkly with mischief. "Oh, y'know, the first time I followed you when you lifted weights on the ground floor? Yeah, that was the day I started worshipping forearms." 

"Goddammit, Jisung," Chan laughs, his legs tangling with Jisung's even further. "Most people worship biceps, you know." 

Jisung snorts. "Well, that's where they're missing out. I mean, look at this." He provides jazz hands directed at Chan's forearms, half-hidden by the blankets. "Impeccable. Amazing. Show-stopping, never-before-seen—"

"Stop," Chan complains, drawing out the syllable like a child. "Can we worship something else instead? Like _your_ biceps?" 

Jisung almost looks affronted. "My biceps? Sure, I've been working out more because I keep following you to the gym, but you're the one who never skips arm day." 

"Nope," Chan says firmly. "Jicep appreciation time. I said so." 

"Jiceps." Jisung only barely manages to get the word out before choking on his laughter. "Alright, I'll bite. So you like my biceps." 

Chan grins and reaches out to squeeze Jisung's bicep briefly. "Yeah, especially when you wear sleeveless shirts. Which, by the way, you should do more often." 

He's a little gratified when he gets _that_ smile as Jisung laughs, the gummy, heart-shaped one that crinkles his eyes in the most adorable way. It’s definitely the one Chan loves most.

"Okay," Jisung teases, his smile settling into something smaller but no less warm. "I can do that for you, baby."

"Good," Chan says, reflexively smiling back, and leans forward to press a kiss to Jisung's bicep where his hand had just been. He wants to keep drawing out that smile, and everything about Jisung that comes with it.

**Author's Note:**

> If you made it this far without screaming at Chan and/or Jisung, congratulations. Make sure to support social justice, prevent COVID, comment, and take care of yourself. See you next time.


End file.
